


Grudge of the Universe

by Gadhar



Category: New Avengers (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Non-Explicit, Sexual Themes, Stephen talks a lot, Stephen's past, victims of the universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-08
Packaged: 2018-02-12 07:44:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2101359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gadhar/pseuds/Gadhar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We can fight to make our bond stronger. So strong it survives Murphy's Law and whatever other grudge the universe has against us. Against <em>you.</em>"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grudge of the Universe

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Characters do not belong to me. This fic is written for no gain of any kind other than my joy of writing it.
> 
> I apologize for the incomplete and messed up version of this that was posted previously. Something must have happened when I was pasting into the text box that chopped up the text as such and eliminated a huge section of the story. It is now fixed.

"I'm worried about them," Stephen says and Carol quiets the echoes of her own sentiments, and the fact that Stephen had said just those same words earlier.

"We all are, well, I'm not. But everyone else is. You're not alone." She turns to a quirked eyebrow and it takes a moment for her to drag her eyes from those brows to Stephen's actual face. No man should have brows that shapely. Actually, no one period should. 

"I respect your stance on nothing phasing you, but I truly find the situation to be troubling."

"I do as well- find it troubling, I mean. But I'm not worried. Worried that worse things will happen? Yes. Worried that it's over between them? That the kid will grow up in an unstable home rarely ever seeing her father? No. They'll never let that happen. Jess is doing what she has to, and Luke is doing what he has to. But in the end, neither of them is going to stay apart. They've both lost too much for that."

"Perhaps. But what of the in between?" Stephen says and he stares directly at her as a knife slices a carrot behind him. Carol highly doubts that this is a regular occurrence for him, as he usually does not flaunt his magic, despite the fact that he's leisurely leaned against the counter in the most formal way anyone could possibly lean, seemingly unaware of anything but her. 

"The in between? Well, they do what they've always done. We all do. That's all we can do." 

Stephen slides the carrot into the pot, stirs it with a floating spoon and Carol watches it all, fascinated.

Magic has never really interested her, past the absolute thrill and adoration of her first six years of life, but then, she supposes she never really knew _true_ magic until now. 

Then Stephen sets the table and fills two bowls, all without moving a muscle, before gliding towards her and taking a seat. 

"Now you're just showing off," She chides and he smiles, a brief glint in his eyes as if to say _'Never'_. 

There's a companionable silence while they eat and though Stephen is always quiet, she's spent long enough with him to know that this silence is a precursor to the later storm. If they get a call today, some criminals are going to be very sorry. 

"Why are you worried? Do you not believe they can hold it together? Do you not believe _in_ them?"

"It's not that," Stephen says and his spoon clinks awfully loudly against the side of the bowl. All the dishes making their own merry way to the sink as Stephen steeples his fingers. 

"I just happen to believe the universe more."

"The universe? What, like it's going to personally tear them apart?" 

Stephen smiles again and there's humor there that doesn't reflect in his eyes. They continue to be their pale blue, storms be damned. "Fascinating," He murmurs and before she can ask, he continues. 

"Murphy's Law," Stephen says and Carol has a feeling that Stephen is having two completely separate conversations with her despite that she's only participating in the one.

"Bad things are gonna happen?"

There's that smile again and she's pretty sure she can hear the ghost of yet another ' _fascinating_ ' before he speaks again. "That is the incorrect but popular belief. No, I mean that whatever can happen, will. Earth tends to be a large magnet, if you will, for things of all manners of negativity. We sit in the center of our universe which sits in the center of all the others. As such, ley lines cross, deities fight, and our balance, of good and bad, is forever changing. Forever changing while remaining the same."

She must look absolutely lost, deer in headlights syndrome, because Stephen laughs and phrases whatever he just said differently. "Earth is the perfect victim for bad luck, and I believe, as per Murphy's law, that any bad thing or good thing that can happen will. So while I believe in what Luke and Jessica are trying to do, while I _believe_ in their love for each other, I'm not so sure it is a match against all the things that can and will happen to them. And I fear the bad will far outweigh the good."

"Because Earth is the armpit of the universe. Univer _ses._ "

"Indeed."

"And you worry?"

"Of course. They are my friends and they..." Stephen falters, something he's _never_ done and as quick as his face saddens it brightens again. Falsely or not, Carol can't tell, but he's staring at her and she already knows what he's going to say. "Fascinating."

He's standing and she follows, watching curiously as he magicks a cup of tea from wherever before pressing it to his lips, and then, hers.

"Should I be concerned this is a date rape drug?" 

"Do I really not have a chance? I'm not accustomed to stooping so low but..."

She laughs because for Stephen to not have a chance now, after _months_ of them running around with knowing grins and whispered talks across pillows, is absolutely ridiculous. 

His lips replace that of the ceramic cup and he is sweeter than the tea, yet there is still that touch of savory that she suspects is just him. Just Stephen, no environment involved.

She runs her hands up his sides, cups his face and pulls him in closer, deeper. The knot of his sash is poking into her side. It reminds her of the fact that this is Stephen Strange, _Doctor_ Stephen Strange, her very own fancy pants magician. It was always hard to tell, to see his virtue behind the civilian clothes. But these clothes, they somehow seem more like a second skin on him, and _against_ her. 

It makes her laugh.

"Should I be offended?" His voice rolls though her and his face is turned slightly away. He's just short of panting but his eyes are dreamy, yet oddly focused. 

"No. I was just thinking."

"About what? Pray tell," He says but she thinks he doesn't care, not with the way he nudges his nose against the underside of her chin, sucking a hot trail down her neck and back up.

"About how you're a fancy pants magician and yet, you are far more mature and sane than those birthday party magicians."

" _Sorcerer,_ " He growls and there is a real tone of indignation in his voice. "I am not a magician, I do not do tricks. I am a sorcerer. I do _magic._ " 

"That tongue is magic," The comment blows off his indignation but seems to fire up other things.

It's after the haze of slow love-making, of whispered noises and fervent hands, that Carol thinks about all they've discussed.

Because this is what she does after having sex with a fancy pants magici- _sorcerer._ She reflects. She's had _that_ many bad relationships. 

And she thinks of what Stephen had almost said earlier, before his voice and his face turned sad. And she can't stop herself. "What was it?" She asks simply and he blinks up at her blearily, cheekbones sharp and still flushed, the fringe of his moussed hair dangling in front of his eyes. She's on her back and he's lying across her, lower body tangled in the blankets.

His eyes are questioning but she has a feeling he knows what she's asking.

"What was it that happened to you? That makes you doubt the happiness of your friends? What makes you think the universe will win out? That the universe's goal is nothing more than to make us miserable?"

Stephen's eyes sharpen and he picks his head up, rubbing his chin against her stomach in a way that's similar to a cat. "You are fascinating, you know that? Exquisitely fascinating."

"I do know," Carol says because it isn't like he's been saying it all night. "But you're deflecting."

"No, merely elaborating. Or, maybe, a little of both, if I'm honest. My point being, no one asks the what. They ask me why I think one way or another and they ask me how I can think that, but they never ask me what it was that ever gave me that impression. I say this day is horrid so they ask why and I say because of the sun, hot and bearing down on me and they want to know why that's bad. Simple, because I don't like sweating and being hot. But they never ask about the day I spent locked in my father's shed, sun hot and beating down through all the cracks of the wood, making it so that all I saw was blaring light or old wood. 

"They never ask about how my throat became so dry I couldn't scream anymore, that my clothes were heavy with sweat and the heat made my head so fuzzy I didn't even feel it when I careened to the side, knocking myself out on some rusted old tool. They never ask what happened that makes me hate the sun."

Carol doesn't say anything. She can't. She sees Stephen, young and round-faced, pale skin devoid of his famous fu man chu, his black hair slick and stuck to his forehead as he cried out for help, small fingers scrabbling against old but strong wood. And even when it fades she does not say anything about it. Because Stephen would not want pity, would not want anything concerning his past because it is in the past. 

"You are fascinating, Ms. Danvers, because you see things no one else does, you ask the questions no one thinks to." Stephen finally says and the sentiment is soft and honest, a contrast to the steel knifed look of his eyes as he watches her. 

"Unless your father's shed had something against Luke and Jess, I'm pretty sure you still owe me a story." 

And he won't say no, he won't deny her and say another time because they are past that. This a story you tell someone you trust, she can feel it, and even if they weren't here, lying in his bed, moonlight streaming through his window and casting twisted shadows across his back, he would still tell her.

"I lost everything, and gained nothing. And yet, I lost nothing, and gained everything," Stephen says cryptically but Carol waits, knowing Stephen just has some genetic need to speak around things before actually going into them. "I lost my family, all in a matter of months. Technically it was longer but, realistically, it was even sooner than that. 

"My parents died within a week of each other. I did not go to either funeral, too busy with my drinking and sleazing around. My _saving lives._ My brother, Victor, came to...I don't even know. I suppose he held onto the hope that I was still the big brother he had growing up. I guess he wanted comfort or support or...Whatever it was, I didn't give it. I said vile things to him, sent him into the night and he was hit by a car. Nearly died. It was my fault. I froze him out of the selfish hope of saving his life, to resolve my guilt more than anything. Years later I would, again blinded by guilt, turn him into a vampire, a slave to animal nature. 

"When my Master handed down his mantle to me, I became not of this world. I was not of any world, any plane of existence. I was still mortal of course, but...my existence, every bit of my history, everything that made me who I was- it was gone. Like that. To be Sorcerer Supreme one has to walk _between_ worlds. It is something you do until you die. My family was displaced, my brother knew who I was, because of his near-death and then vampiric state, but the guilt was still fresh. My sister, who probably held me more dear than anyone and I took it and slapped her in the face with it, was no longer my sister. Our parents, were hers and hers only and she lived a hard life instead of dying on the table under my hands.

"In return for losing who I was, to become what the _universe_ needed me to be. I lost everything. And in it's place I have gained responsibility, power, friends. But...everything I held dear was torn away and I fear the same happening to Luke and Jessica. There is nothing that will stop that."

Carol wraps his hair around her fingers, twirling it a few times before taking both her hands and carding through his hair. There is a soft exhale of breath, something she knows that is closer to a sob despite the lack of tears. His face is buried in her stomach and she takes the trembling of his shoulders for what it is-

The release of grief long held but never felt. In a moment it is gone, and she knows it has been bottled away once again. Never to be felt.

It's extremely unhealthy but she has no room to talk unless she wants to bring her own coping mechanisms onto the table. 

"We can't stop it, you're right. But there's something we can do now that you couldn't then."

He does not look up, but his head turns, either to listen better or to lean into her hands, who knows. "You are no longer alone, it's not you against the world for the sake of your family. It's you and me and Luke and Jess. And Danny, Spidey, Ben, and Bobbi. And every other superhero around. We're all family. A really, huge, dysfunctional family with questionable taste in fashion and even more dubious sanity, but a family nonetheless. We can fight together for the sake of each other. We can fight to make our bond stronger. So strong it survives Murphy's Law and whatever other grudge the universe has against us. Against _you._ "

Stephen looks up and his eyes are a lot softer, crinkling at the corners as he smiles and huffs a laugh, crawling his way up to her. "I dare to hope."

Their lips meet again and Carol thinks this is the first night in a long while that there have been no calls interrupting her love life. "Score one for the superhero family," She murmurs aloud. 

_"Fascinating."_


End file.
